


Daddy Issues / WAP

by lacecat, nosehearts



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Collab, Cows, I'm a bottom like my father before me, M/M, Nonsense, Private Investigators, Sexual Humor, Tacos, confused but horny Din, dirty talking, food delivery, gluck gluck 9000, inspired by queernightstands, our minds, poor Boba, shitpost, slutty luke, unironically inspired by a tiktok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacecat/pseuds/lacecat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosehearts/pseuds/nosehearts
Summary: Din Djarin is a private investigator working for Boba Fett and he’s tracking Han Solo. So, to get to Han, Din has to find the people he’s been in contact with. One of them is Han’s girlfriend’s twin brother Luke Skywalker, who lives in a gigantic property, a celebrity farm. Will Din get his answers or did he just get in the biggest trouble of his whole career?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 43
Kudos: 148





	Daddy Issues / WAP

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the whole of the mandalorian fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+whole+of+the+mandalorian+fandom).



> Hi, people of DinLuke land, it's us, the king and queen of this ship. (We're self-proclaimed)  
> We decided to do a lil funky collab and this is what we came up with. It's profound, introspective, shedding a new light on this ship, truly. I hope you will enjoy this as much as we liked writing it. It took a lot of time to really explore the complexity of the characters, the mood, the setting. We cried sometimes as we wrote this as we were so intimately touched.  
> As always, leave a comment if you've also felt something as you read this, we would deeply appreciate a feedback from a fellow poet. Thank you so much and we'll see you on the next one, bye!  
> Cait and Micah

It’s been a long time since he’s driven out to the countryside. Ahead of the car, the road sways and dips with the hills, the fields muted brown all around him thanks to the darkening sky overhead. 

It starts to rain halfway to his destination, the pavement quickly becoming slick. Din focuses on his steering, though the conversation with Boba still plays through his mind.

_ I’ll count it as a personal favor _ , Boba had told him, voice crackly over the satellite phone that Din carries around exclusively. He doesn’t trust cellphones - God knows how many people he’s tracked down because they’re slow to destroy the sim cards - and he knew it was serious when Boba didn’t make fun of him for it at the start of their conversation.

The farmhouse appears as a dot in the distance, steadily growing even as he squints out among the fat raindrops hitting his windshield. One case he’d taken a few years ago, he’d had to chase the mark through a similar field - Din had ruined a pair of his nice, steel-toed boots that way. He’s hoping that his plan for this one means a rather less dramatic outing.

He gets to the long edge of the driveway, which is paved far nicer than any of the other few houses he’d passed on his way up here. The farmhouse stretches out on the top of a slight hill, overlooking the fields around it, and it’s painted in what looks like a fresh coat of blue paint. There’s a single pickup truck parked out front, which Din notes the license plate of as he comes to a stop just behind it.

There’s no security as far as he can see, no cameras, gates, or anything that stops his travel up to the house. All Din can see is a mailbox that reads  _ Skywalker  _ in faded paint on the side, and the gravel path that leads up to the front door. Maybe the mark likes the rustic vibe of the place, he thinks. 

He eases the car forward, trying not to slip up and hit the parked truck - more difficult than expected, given the mounds of slippery mud everywhere thanks to the rain. Din Djarin may be a bounty hunter, but even he has  _ standards _ . Unnecessary property damage is just unprofessional. 

\---

“I’m asking for your help,” Boba had said over the phone, “Help me track down this bastard, this colossal piece of garbage, this shit-head-”

Din had waited until he was done with the expletives, had just said, “Did he steal something from you?”

“If only,” Boba had said grimly, then, “I’ll count it as a personal favor.”

He and Boba go back far enough that Din was willing to take on this job for him. For a fair price, of course. He’s got his rent to pay. Boba claimed that he’s sent others on the job before, only for them to turn up empty-handed.

So Din had set out to find this Han Solo character, to bring him to Boba to answer to whatever personal grudge the man clearly has against him.

It takes little research to confirm that Solo is a smuggler, with a rap sheet of associated crimes that makes his computer fan start to overheat when he downloads the files from his contact. Din didn’t ask - and doesn’t particularly care - about his connection to Boba, but he starts to wonder if that information would have helped after several fruitless hours trying to find his last known location.

What he can find out, with some lucky guesses and a paper trail, is Han Solo’s connection to one Leia Organa. The smuggler must have friends in high places if he’s got an Organa on his side. Din considers tracking her down, but he realizes that it’s no use - even if he could figure out where she’d be at a particular time, kidnapping a senator would be too risky even for him. Her office probably won’t respond to any email of his inquiring about Han Solo, either. 

He strikes gold, though, when he finds out that Organa has a brother. A twin brother, Luke Skywalker, identified in a newspaper article covering one of Organa’s re-election galas a few months back. The last name is not explained, but Din finds another photo with the brother on the next page, his arm slung over one Han Solo - jackpot. 

Din has the grainy photo of Skywalker in his pocket right now, as he gets out of the truck. In the photo, he’s got light hair and an easy grin on his face. He will probably look much less cheerful when he finds out that Din is here to get information about his friend, and he won’t take no for an answer.

Luckily, he has a plan. Din shoulders the heavy bag, makes sure his gun is obscured underneath his shirt where it’s tucked into his waistband. Boba has warned him: Han Solo is dangerous, so his friends must be too. But he’s ready.

He walks right up to the front door.

There’s - finally - a security camera in the front, and Din clears his throat, knocks on the door. The tiny light on the camera flashes. It’s got a microphone, he sees, and he braces himself. 

“Hi. I’ve got a food delivery,” Din says, “For… Luke?”

Nothing. Din clears his throat once more. “Luke Skywalker?”

He hears him, then. “Hold on!” someone calls from inside. Just as Din wonders if he’s somehow been made, and the mark’s trying to escape him already, he hears footsteps getting louder on the other side of the door, then the door opens.

Din’s first thought is,  _ he’s shorter than I guessed _ . The next is,  _ that photo didn’t do him justice _ . Luke Skywalker blinks up at him with bright, bright blue eyes, and he says, “Oh. Sorry about that, I was milking the cows.”

Professional, Din reminds himself. Keeping a hand on his bag, he asks, “Luke Skywalker?”

“God, I’m starving,” Luke says instead, peering at the bag, and Din slowly lowers it. “It’s Taco Tuesday, and I missed last week - whoa!”

While he talks, Din grabs the man’s shoulder, spinning him around. He’s careful not to hit him too hard into the doorframe, just enough so that he’s caught off guard, so he can pin his wrists together.

In a flash, he has a zip tie around his wrists, tightening it just enough so he can’t slip free. “We need to have some words,” Din tells him, “About your friend Mr. Solo.”

“Ow,” Luke says, then, somewhat muffled by the frame, “Fuck.”

\---

Luke’s now on a chair, his hands tied up behind him, looking eerily calm. Maybe it’s just because he’s a dangerous individual, and he’s used to this kind of treatment. Din stays cautious, though - the guy’s innocent mannerism could be a show to let him lower his guard.  _ Is he trying to distract him with all this talking about cows? _

“Chewie’s my first cow,” Luke says, proudly adding, “He’s a Highland.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Din comments.

Luke ignores him: “And I wasn’t milking  _ him _ , I mean… he’s a male cow.”

Din raises an eyebrow as he finishes setting up the polygraph - previously stashed in the delivery bag - half-paying attention to the long-winded explanation on Scottish cattle. He doesn’t usually use these, because they rarely work - only people think that they do, and the idea that he can tell when they’re lying generally works in his favor of getting the truth as fast as possible. He just hopes that Skywalker falls into that category. 

“Here’s how this will go,” Din says sternly, and Luke widens his eyes and nods like he’s trying to show he’s paying attention to him.  _ Jesus Christ. _ “You’re going to tell me all about your friend’s location.”

“Han? I have no clue,” Luke says. “He likes to go on his adventures. Why do you want to know?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Din orders, picking up the sensors, “Or I’ll make this more difficult than it needs to be.” 

“Well, I like a challenge,” Luke says, and Din decidedly ignores the way he uncrosses his legs at that. “Are you putting those on me?”

“Yeah. Stay still, I got a knife and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Din gets behind Luke, using another zip tie to keep one hand tied to the chair and get the other upon the table.

“Is this a prosthetic?” Din asks, taking his right hand.

“Uh? Yes. Should’ve mentioned it.”

Din wonders in what bloody gang war he’s lost it. He attaches the machine’s sensors to Luke’s bicep, rolling up his shirt sleeve on his upper arm, seeing the way the prosthetic attaches to the elbow. Impressive, Din thinks, that must have cost a fortune.  _ Dirty money, for sure. _

He wraps a couple of sensors around Luke’s chest, to measure his breathing, and puts some finger caps on the other hand, the real one. After that, he links the machine to his computer, sees the screen register his heart rate. 

“There’s no need to strap me to this thing, really,” the man tries. 

“My client warned me about you. You and your friend Solo aren’t people to be trusted. I’ll ask you a few questions, and I promise I won’t hurt you if you tell the truth,” Din says, categorical, professional. He doesn’t want to waste time with this guy, his eyes blue like the morning sky, his soft hair the color of sand… 

Enough. That’s enough. The mission.

“I’m no one, really,” Luke says, “I’ll tell you the truth, I swear. I’ll be straight with you.”

The machine beeps. He closes his mouth, confused. “It seems you’re lying about that,” Din comments, impassible.

“Lying? I ain’t lying, I got nothing to hide!”

Beep.

“Machine says otherwise.”

“Look buddy, I’m an innocent man!”

This time the machine doesn’t beep. Din raises an eyebrow.

“That’s the truth, apparently. Finally, you’ve decided to collaborate. Keep going. So-”

Luke interrupts him abruptly: “See tough guy? You think you’re so hot, but you’re not.”

A louder beep. Din raises both eyebrows this time.

“Okay okay, what’s going on with your thing there? I’m getting nervous.”

Din shushes him: “What did you just say?”

“I said: you’re not as hot as you think you are.”

Beep.

Luke’s voice gets louder: “What’s the matter? Honestly.”

“I told you five times already, it’s a lie detector.”

“Easy there, mansplainer, I’m not dumb, I know, but you haven’t asked me a question yet.”

“I don’t need to, it detects lies in general.”

“I didn’t lie. I just told you you’re not as hot-”

Beep.

Din and Luke stare at each other.

“I don’t think you’re hot-”

Beep.

Luke shifts nervously in the chair: “Woah, okay, I don’t know what this thing is telling you but you’re getting the wrong idea.”

“Oh, really,” says Din, slightly amused, crossing his arms.

“Yes I mean, I definitely don’t find you physically or emotionally attractive.”

Beep.

“And I definitely do not, at all, wanna kiss you anywhere near your mouth.”

A pause.

Beep.

Luke groans in frustration: “Ah, screw it, what are you doing Saturday?”

Din opens his mouth, only there’s a ringing sound that interrupts whatever he was going to say - the doorbell, he realizes, someone pressing on it again.

_ Saved by the bell. _

He turns his head, as Luke says, “Oh. That might be the actual tacos.”   
  
Din points at him. “Not a sound,” he says in what he hopes is a suitably threatening voice. Luke actually rolls his eyes at him like he’s the one tied up to a polygraph and with a knife in his boot.

“I’ll be quiet,” Luke says, with a smirk coming over his face, “For now, at least. I can be a screamer later if you’d like.”

Din leaves him before he can say anything else, going to peer out the glass on the side of the door. There’s a man there, baseball cap pulled low on his head, looking annoyed as he holds a plastic bag full of food cartons. “Hello?” he calls, “I have your order, are you Luke?”

He opens the door, then. “You have the wrong house-”

“Right house!” Luke calls in the distance, and Din mentally weighs the pros and cons of just fleeing the scene, at this point.

The delivery man squints at him. “Are you Luke?”

“Am I - no, I’m not, you must’ve gotten the address wrong.”

“Nah, you described the house perfectly, dude,” the delivery man says. “I saw the cow when I pulled up.”

Resigned, Din asks. “How much do I owe you?”

“You paid on the app,” the delivery man says, giving him a weird look. Din hears something, back in the house like a clatter, which doesn’t bode well for him.

“Right,” Din says, accepting the plastic bags from him quickly, “Thanks. Goodbye.” 

“You’re not like, in a hostage situation, are you?” the man asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely not,” Din says, and he closes the door on the man’s face.

Back in the living room, Luke visibly brightens when he sees the bags that Din had seriously considered just throwing away on his way back. 

As he checks to make sure the restraints are still secure, Luke says: “There they are! I could smell them as soon as you opened the door.”

“We’re not done here,” Din says shortly, setting the plastic bag down. “Where is Han Solo?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says, and the machine remains silent. _ Damn it. _ “I think there might have been some sort of misunderstanding-”

“Stop talking,” Din interrupts him, pinching his nose. “When’s the last time you saw him, then?”   
  
“Why are you looking for Han?” Luke asks him instead.

“We have a mutual friend,” Din says, shortly.

“Ah,” Luke says, something dawning on his expression. “Fett sent you to track him down.”

“No,” Din says on instinct. Then, a tentative, “Why?” escapes his lips.

“Lots of people don’t like Han,” Luke says. “Far fewer people hire others to actually try to find him, especially by looking for his friends like me. None are as handsome as you, of course.”

“Would you stop talking and just tell me when-”

“And what’s more, if only you weren’t looking to kill my friend, I might have actually forgiven this whole zip tie thing fairly quickly.”

“I’m not trying to kill him,” Din snaps, “I’m a private investigator.”

“So you  _ were _ sent by Fett,” Luke says, and he actually looks regretful for a moment. “Even if I did know where Han was, I wouldn’t tell you. Sorry.”

Din turns around, and he lets out a long exhale. If this really is a dead-end, he has nothing more to go on.  _ Damn it, Boba _ , he thinks, sending him on a fool’s errand again. Either option isn’t great, at this point - but now he’s stuck with a mouthy hostage and no way of getting out of this with any new information.

Luke’s still blinking up at him with those bright blue eyes when he faces him again.

“Here’s the thing,” Din says, trying to sound menacing though it appears to have no effect on the man in front of him, “I’m going to ask you again-”

“Oh,  _ enough,  _ already,” Luke says, “Would you just feed me one of those? I don’t want them to get cold,” and he nods over to the plastic bag. “The smell is far more torture than whatever you’d be planning. You can have some too.”

_ I don’t torture,  _ Din thinks. Then he looks at the plastic bag, then back at Luke. “Are you going to cooperate if I do?”

“I’ll even let you feed me,” Luke says, coaxing, as he shifts in his chair, “Come on, They’re the best in the area.”

This is how Din finds himself feeding bites to his mark, holding up the taco so that Luke can eat it, making quite frankly pornographic sounds with every taste. Luke licks his lips in between bites, and looking like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Din’s libido as he does so.

“That’s the good stuff,” Luke moans around a bite of cilantro rice, “Try this one, go on, you need to taste it.”

Din complies. It is pretty good, actually. “We’re not done here,” he says, swallowing, “This isn’t - I’m still going to need to know about your friend.”   
  
“Why talk about Han, when we can talk about us?” Luke says, then winks. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Din levels a look at him: “You flirt with everyone like this?”

“I’m what they call incorrigible,” Luke says, “Come on. When are we going to stop playing this game?”

“This game - there is no  _ game _ !”

“There is,” Luke tells him, and he leans forward, as far as the restraints allow him. He looks at Din through his eyelashes - running his tongue over his bottom lip slow and dangerous,  _ fuck _ . “You’re going to let me go, to start, and I’m going to show my appreciation for that generosity.”

Din leans forward, too, even though it feels like playing with fire just to look at him like this: “You think I’m going to drop this interrogation, just like that?”

“You will,” Luke says, looking satisfied as if he’d already let him go. “Does that frustrate you? Go on, do your worst, I can  _ take _ it.”

Din thinks about it for a moment. One hand, Boba Fett and the mission. On the other hand: Boba who? Is Din really going to waste the opportunity to get his dick wet?

No ma’am. He’s made much worse decisions before, after all, and Din makes up his mind. 

He draws his knife, and for the first time, Luke starts to look worried: “Wait - not that, not what I meant when I said take it-”

Din goes around him, and he neatly slices through the zip ties that bind the man’s wrists together. “Oh,” Luke says, “So you  _ are  _ letting me go. As for the rest of my offer?”

“Yeah, I am,” Din says, “You’re useless for my plan. But I did come all the way here. Are you gonna make me waste my time?”

Luke, rubbing his wrists, blinks repeatedly, surprise dawning on his face. He says, “Of course I am. A Skywalker always repays his debts.” He stands up, and Din lets him come around, still looking at him like he’s deliberating.

“By debt, do you mean,” Din gets out, before Luke gives him a shove. He’s surprisingly strong, for someone that short, and Din takes a few steps back, his knees knocking into the back of the couch.

“Hm,” Luke says, then he smirks. “I can show you.”

He pushes Din down on the couch until he falls back into it. Getting with the program quickly, Din parts his legs willingly, as Luke sinks to the ground with a thud. He kneels in front of him, unzipping his pants with his teeth, really slowly, teasing him all the way through it.

Din thinks this might be the weirdest start to a blowjob that he’s ever had, but he’s not going to complain, not when those blue eyes are blinking up at him, his cheek brushing up against his cock through his underwear. If this is some drawn out con to get Din unarmed, well, he’ll take that risk.

Luke - still with his teeth - pulls down Din’s underwear, reveals his growing erection. Din’s half a mind to tell him  _ careful _ when his teeth graze him just a little too close, only he’s stopped by Luke taking him out entirely, his hot breath on his cock making shivers race up his spine.

“Oh my God, that is so big. How am I gonna be able to do this?” Luke says, breathily languishing there below him. Din seriously reconsiders his taste in men for a moment, when he adds, “It’s just so  _ much _ .”

Din tries his best to not roll his eyes - he wants this twink obliterated. Maybe after, he’ll fuck him, if he’s into it. He pictures fucking him right there, on these ugly green cushions. The thought makes him grow harder, even before Luke finally puts his mouth on his cock. His fingers dig into the couch below him as Luke’s teeth do, in fact, get too close for his comfort. 

Luke starts going to town on him, though, with deliberately long licks on Din’s cock, moving up and down before focusing on the tip. When he does so, a moan escapes Din’s lips. Looking proud of himself for making him lose his composure, even if only a little bit, Luke releases him with a pop, then spits on his own hand. 

He starts pumping the base of Din’s cock as he licks the head, as noisily as possible. Din’s never heard slurping noises as obscene as these are; Luke’s drooling like a fucking llama, spit dripping down on him, making an absolute mess.

Luke pulls free with a loud, wet sound. “Oh, _ daddy _ ,” he says, “You taste so good, I could live off your cock forever.”

Din tries his best to suppress his cringe. “Can you stop talking?”

“Wanna fuck my face?” Luke suggests, his breath ghosting over him. 

“Just do it,” Din grunts, before Luke calls him  _ daddy  _ again.

Luke obliges, sucking him down again. He adds another hand on him, and now Din gives a loud moan, as his hands twist around him, expertly working him as his mouth slips lower, taking one of his balls in his mouth and sucking hard. Din’s head bangs the back of the couch, and Luke helpfully grabs one of his hands, freeing it from its tight grasp on the cushion and putting it right on his head.

“This,” Din says to the ceiling, gripping his hair slightly, “Has been the weirdest -  _ fuck  _ \- job - how can you  _ breathe _ ?”

Luke gives an exaggerated moan. When he looks down, he winks up at him with Din’s cock in his mouth as he bends his neck down again, hands twisting around him, and he’s gone. 

Din comes with a half-choked sound, his hips thrusting up off the couch, and Luke swallows it all, letting go of his softening cock only when Din’s hand presses against his head, begging for relief.

“Thank you for the meal. It goes really well with the tacos,” Luke says, and Din cannot believe that this man has just managed to give him an orgasm. “Are you going to give me a five-star review?”

“Fuck, where did you learn that?” Din asks weakly, as Luke wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking rather smug. 

“Oh, that’s called  _ the gluck gluck 9000. _ ”

“The  _ what? _ ”

“It’s a secret technique of the Skywalker family. I’m a bottom like my father before me,” Luke says casually, rocking back on his heels.

Din is left speechless. Totally, entirely, without words.

“Let me fetch lube and condoms while you get hard again,” Luke suggests during his silence, rising up from his knees. “You can, right? You’re not that old.”

Before Din can reply to that -  _ rude _ \- Luke is already rising and leaving him there. He hears footsteps pause after a moment, though. “Wait, you don’t wanna fuck on the couch like we’re teenagers, right?”

“...no?” Din replies, uncertain, and the footsteps continue.  _ Maybe if I go upstairs he’ll be the one who’s gonna kill  _ me. 

He’d always thought that he’d go out with a bad job - someone pulling a gun on him, or maybe the brakes to his ancient car would finally give out during a snowstorm. Not at all this, not by a 5’7’’ twink who he can hear humming out of tune in the other room like he hasn’t just destroyed him. Somewhere, Boba Fett is laughing at him.

As he deliberates on this, Luke shouts from the other room: “Come in here! I’ve got a big bed.”

Bringing his pants up just enough that he can walk in them without breaking his neck, Din gets up. He puts the gun next to the polygraph machine, just as Luke calls out again.

Din climbs up the stairs, his legs still feeling loose enough that he nearly trips over Luke’s discarded shirt, and he really does nearly bite it then and there.

He stops in the doorway.

The bedroom is a total mess, not because it’s not tidy, but because it looks like seven different people who are all different ages live there. The wallpaper is space-themed, looking like it had fully belonged to an eight-year-old, with tons of stickers all over every surface. The bookshelves are filled with young adult novels and university tomes, like he’s forgotten to take the first ones out and just left them there to collect dust. Besides his queen-sized bed - with tangled, neon plaid sheets - there’s his nightstand, which looks straight out of a nightmare.

Din processes the sight in front of him. He can see a Remy the rat plush, foot moisturizer, lube, an iPad pen, a glittery fanny pack, a small rock, a broken lamp with a cow plush on it, a mug that’s surely been there forever, and Beats headphones. Overall, this screams  _ gay _ everywhere you look.

Luke is looking through his stuff for condoms as Din is aghast at the sight: “Do you like grapes? I have grape flavored ones. There are also glow in the dark ones, do you want those instead?”

“No thanks.” Din seriously considers just leaving, only Luke rolls over, and he’s caught by the sight of him half-naked, feeling like a deer in headlights. He’s  _ fucked,  _ he thinks, taking into the sight of the flat planes of Luke’s chest, the way he looks poured into those pants from this angle. He’s already half-hard, again, because this might just be a fever dream of his after all. Or he really did die.  _ Rest in peace, Din Djarin. Professional except for the ending incident, dying before his time because of one Luke Skywalker, a menace of a man. _

“Oh, alright. Put this on,” says Luke, unaware of his internal crisis and throwing a condom at him.

Din catches it. On the wrapper, there’s writing:  _ I will not be your father _ .

“Yeah, I also wonder where that comes from,” Luke comments as he takes off his shoes, pants and socks. “Coming?”

Din puts on the condom fairly quickly at that, only to look up and see that Luke’s underwear has Pac-man printed all over it. Din’s really questioning his life choices now, but at least Luke has a nice ass, he thinks.

Luke looks over his shoulder at him, like he knows Din’s staring at him. “Like what you see?”

Din grunts: “Yeah, otherwise I’d be out of here.”

“Fair enough,” says Luke, shrugging, then he reaches from the lube on his nightstand and jumps back on the bed, shimming out of his underwear and freeing his half-hard cock. It’s as pretty as the rest of him, with a nice girth. Din just  _ didn’t  _ think about how good it would feel inside of him.  _ Oh no, no way this is happening again, this guy is so weird. _

In the meanwhile, Luke’s already started fingering himself. By the look on his face it seems like an entirely unnecessary step, and he’s doing it just for the showmanship of it all. Din appreciates it, although a little less when Luke decides that he’s going to narrate this next bit too, spreading his legs so Din gets the full experience.

“See how tight I am, uh?” Luke says, tossing his head back with a gasp as he presses up against something inside of him. “Want you so bad, da-”   
  
To shut him up, Din quickly moves onto the bed, and he’s pressing a kiss to Luke’s mouth, cutting him off. Luke laughs into his mouth, as Din’s hands come up to either side of his head, demanding for more, and he obliges.

Then he’s jerking back, because Luke bites down on his lip, hard. “Ow!”   
  
“That’s for thinking about throwing away my tacos, earlier,” Luke tells him, looking utterly unrepentant.

“You don’t know I was thinking that.” 

“I do. I’m a mind reader.”

“You are not.”   
  
“No, I’m not,” Luke admits readily enough, then lets his legs fall more open. “Come on, are you going to fuck me? Gonna break this bed to punish me?”

“I’m going to regret this,” Din informs him, even as he gets in between Luke’s thighs. 

“Come on, fuck me like this,” Luke says, his hands going around Din’s shoulders, “Or I’ll ride you like a Highland-”

“Do _ not _ say  _ cow _ .”

“I was about to say  _ bull _ , but  _ cow _ suits you best. I wanna milk you dry-”

Din shuts him up by finally sliding all the way in, and Luke chokes on his words, his hands scrabbling across his back.

“You fill me up so good, daddy, oh yes, keep going,” Luke manages, as Din slides out just enough to drive back into him with a grunt, the bed shaking under them. He just hopes that it doesn’t actually break. 

“Will you  _ ever _ shut up?”

“Make me,” Luke challenges. He tilts his neck back, inviting, his hand going down Din’s arm to grab at his hand, put it at his own throat. 

Din gladly accepts the invitation, wrapping one hand around his throat and squeezing the sides, just enough so he can feel it. “Good?”

“Oh yes, choke me, fuck,” are the last words Luke says before resorting to only moaning as Din complies. At least that plan worked, he thinks. 

He slams his hips against Luke’s body. It’s just tight enough around him, so he can move comfortably in and out as he sets the pace. Luke reaches down to jerk himself off, his hand slipping down to his cock as he thrusts. Din promptly slaps his hand away, and Luke forces his eyes open at that. 

“Who told you you could touch yourself?” Din asks, one hand still around his throat. He brings Luke’s wrist up to the other one, keeping them together above his head as he fucks into him even harder. Luke arches into him as he does so, trapped underneath him, and Din can feel him clench all around him in response. 

He has finally managed to make that annoying smirk disappear from his face, now it’s contorted in pleasure with his eyes rolled back, and Luke looks unashamed of how dirty it looks, let alone the noises coming out of him. Din can’t lie: it looks lowkey hot, like he’s fucking his brains out, despite the hideous bed sheets wrinkled around them both. 

“Turn around,” Din orders at one point, “I wanna fuck you from behind like the little slut you are.” 

He lets go of Luke’s throat and wrists, and Luke complies immediately, looking both scared  _ and  _ horny as he positions himself. Din slams himself back into him, burying Luke’s face into the mattress. The sounds he’s making are absolutely obscene, but it adds to the fantasy somehow. Din’s never felt this good, he reluctantly admits to himself. Whatever it is - it’s working for him, and he’s not about to question it at this very moment. 

Luke, meanwhile, remains ass up and face down, trying to get some friction from the pillows below him, as his hands are currently occupied spreading his cheeks even further, maybe just to drive Din mad, coaxing him deeper into him. What a sight. 

He’s close, he can feel it. Din gives Luke’s butt a nice slap - he deserves it - and starts moving faster, letting Luke do all the talking as he focuses on the sensation of him. 

“Are you about to come, daddy? Give it to me, please, give it to me. I wanna feel you dripping inside me daddy-” Luke’s words die in his mouth as Din spanks him again. This time, maybe a little too hard, but Luke seems to enjoy it given the way he gets out another loud moan. “Yeah, like that daddy, I like it rough.”

Luke’s moans get louder as Din loses it completely, almost falling on top of him as he comes with Luke’s muscles spasming around him, bringing him over the edge as he muffles his moan in his shoulder. Din’s so spent he doesn’t even notice when Luke’s coming as well, spilling over those obnoxious neon sheets that should’ve been thrown out long before there was cum all over them.

Din rolls over on his back, staring at the galaxy print on the ceiling, feeling dazed. Clarity comes back to him at last, and he thinks,  _ What the hell am I doing here _ ? At his side, Luke purrs as he snuggles up to him, completely careless of the fact that they’re both sweaty and gross, and not at all minding how Din’s left to stare blank-faced up at the ceiling.

“So,” Luke says, “How was it?”

Din doesn’t have the strength to give a proper answer, he just sighs and grabs Luke’s ass with one hand, giving it a good squeeze: “It was passable,” he says. 

Luke chuckles and adds: “Yeah, I’ve had better.”

Din lets out a soft laugh as well. It’s hard to think of a better fuck in this moment. Yeah, Luke’s super weird, he talks too much and he’s annoying, but God if he ain’t hot as shit, slutty and eager to please.

“Luke,” Din says at one point, “But what did Han do? Can you tell me that, at least?”

Luke smiles slyly, facing the ceiling as well and bringing his hands underneath his head: “Oh, it’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“It all started when-”

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tiktok: https://www.reddit.com/r/SuddenlyGay/comments/l6qwde/ill_be_straight_with_you/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf
> 
> leave a comment you heathen!!!


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